Bracing the Blue Line (7 page)

She nods with a smile. “Do you know my brothers?”

I shake my head. “Know of them, but that’s it.”

“Oh, well, I should go and let you get back to your reading. Do you want me to delete the photos? If they show up anywhere, it’ll be an assignment or my personal portfolio. Never know when images that aren’t sports-related might be helpful.”

My brow bunches with a bit of confusion. “Aren’t sports-related?”

Lucy laughs softly. “Sports photographer, remember?”

“Right. You can keep them, I guess.”

“Thanks.”

Just as she goes to stand, someone calls her name. Lucy grins, looking happy with adoration. I turn to see one of her brothers, the youngest of the trio. He glances at me with a frown, walking over to us.

He sticks his hand out. “Hey, I’m Patrick Kennedy, Lucy’s brother. You would be?”

I shake his hand firmly, deciding to go with the flow. “Grant Faison, Lucy’s test subject apparently.”

Recognition flashes in his eyes. “You’re the goalie for the hockey team, right? Lucy showed me some of the pictures she got of you at the game last night.”

“That would be me,” I confirm.

Patrick turns to his sister, his interrogation over. “Ready? Corey is going to meet us for dinner.”

Lucy lets out a quiet squeal of excitement, and Patrick shakes his head goodnaturedly. “Good. I miss him.”

“Do you want to join us, Grant?” Patrick asks. It almost seems like there’s a challenge in his question.

“Patrick,” Lucy chides. “Leave him alone. I’ve traumatized him enough for today. Let’s go. Corey’s going to be upset if we’re late,” she tells him before turning to me. “Thanks again, Grant.”

“No problem, Lucy.”

She walks off with her brother as he puts a protective arm around her shoulders. Lucy doesn’t seem to mind how her brothers are with her. But that’s based on a very short encounter. What do I know? I rub my hand over my head, feeling the soft, quarter-inch, light brown hair beneath it. What the hell just happened?

I shake my head, deciding to let the ordeal go, and start reading again. My stomach growls a couple times, but I ignore it as I switch to studying. I’ll grab something to eat when I’m done. After I hit the books, I even manage to write some papers. I hate typing. My fingers never move as fast and efficiently as I would like. So I’ll handwrite my papers, go home, and use one of those talk-to-text programs to type for me.

It’s been a long day thanks to these past few hours studying, but I think I may go to the rink. I love skating. It’s a good thing I’m a goalie because I’m slow as hell. Much slower than all the other guys, at least. The only place I have speed is in the net, but that doesn’t take away from my natural love to skate around the rink.

I love the movement of my legs, the burn I feel, and my overall body motion. Being a lean 6’ and 180 pounds, this is a completely different kind of workout than being at the gym. I’m not on the ice five minutes when I find Lucy looking nervous by the benches.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” she offers first. “I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

“How did you get in?” I ask curiously because I locked the entrance behind me.

“I borrowed a key for tonight from your coach.”

The sound of my skates on the ice as I glide over are loud and almost echo around us. “Did you have a good dinner with your brothers?” I question. As an only child, her relationship with her brothers and seemingly love even for their overprotectiveness has me very curious.

Lucy smiles, the fondness clear on her face. “Yes, I did.”

I nod. “What are you doing here?”

Her smile falters a little. “I can come back at another time, Grant. I really didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You aren’t, depending on why you’re here.”

She holds up her camera that’s hanging around her neck. I don’t know how I overlooked it. “I wanted to get comfortable here if I’m going to take more pictures.”

I cock my head to the side to examine her. “What do you mean?”

Lucy rocks on her heels slightly. “Well, I’m used to the football field or the baseball field. I feel at home there, almost. The rink is relatively new to me, so I thought I could get some generic shots, get a better feel for the place, and my shots will come out even better.”

“Well, come on. Be careful or you’ll fall.” I start to skate backwards, away from her. “And yell if I get in your way.”

“Thanks, Grant.”

From the corner of my eye, I watch as she slowly walks along the boards to behind the net. She tilts her head as if thinking about what she wants to do. Lucy shuffles her way in front of the net. She squats down, and it looks like she’s taking a picture of the pole itself. I skate around this side of the rink, watching as she takes shot after shot.

“Grant,” she calls out when I’m standing in the middle of the ice. She’s crouched behind the net, her camera already in place. “Come this way, please. I’ll tell you when you’re out of the way.”

I start to skate towards her, and she calls out as promised. I keep going because this is a picture I want to see. She takes a bunch of different ones while I lean against the boards before she pulls away. Without paying me a lick of attention, she stands, reviewing what she took and nodding in approval as she turns to the left.

Lucy lifts her head and jumps when she sees me. She’s so startled that she loses her balance. I quickly reach for her elbow to steady her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Her cheeks burn with embarrassment, so I decide to move on to why I was back here. “Can I see?” I remove my hand and point to the camera.

“Of course.” Lucy looks down at the camera, finds a shot she’s happy with, and I skate around to look over her shoulder. Wow. The outer edges is the netting, but the center of the shot is the other net across the rink. “It needs some editing,” she murmurs.

“That’s an awesome picture, Lucy.”

“Thanks. I’m going to get some of center ice, if that’s okay?” She turns her head to look up at me over her shoulder.

“Yeah, sure.”

She slowly makes her way over there. She's so absorbed by what she's doing that even though I can't take my eyes off of her, she doesn't notice me at all. I'm fascinated watching her. At one point, she lays on her stomach to get a better angle at whatever she’s wanting to take a picture of exactly.

“Hey, Grant?”

“Yeah?” I ask as I skate towards her.

“This was a bad idea.”

I glide to a stop in front of her and bend down. She’s resting on her elbows with her camera firmly in her grasp. “Why is that?” I ask, confused.

“How am I going to get up without messing up my camera?”

A laugh easily falls from my mouth. That was the last thing I was expecting. Lucy frowns at me. “Do you want me to hold the camera for you or just pick you up?”

“You can take the camera. Be careful with it, though.”

My fingers brush hers as I grab it with one hand and slide my other hand up the strap to lift it over her head. Damn, her hair is ridiculously soft. I clear my throat as my gaze drops to her revealing chest thanks to how she’s laying and her v-neck shirt. As she goes to stand, I do the same, tense and ready to spring in case she loses her footing again.

“Thanks,” she says, reaching for her camera. “I think I’m done for tonight. Laying on the ice before I was done wasn’t my best idea,” she mumbles, looking down at the wet spots on her clothes.

I chuckle. “Probably not.”

I follow her to the bench because I’m done for tonight too. Once I sit down to take off my skates, I realize that she’s waiting for me.

“Could I ask a huge favor?” she questions nervously.

“You ask a lot, you know. First, you make me play reporter, then you sneak pictures of me at the library. Next, you crash my skating. Now, you want a favor?” I tease. Her cheeks turn bright red, and it makes me feel bad. “I’m just messing. What is it?”

She shakes her head, changing her mind. “Thanks for letting me invade. I’m going to go.”

When she turns to walk away, I joke, “Want me to walk you out? It’s pretty late, and a murderer could be out there.”

Lucy immediately tenses and slowly faces me. “That’s not funny,” she says quietly. “I’ll be fine.”

And then she gets the hell away from me. Her reaction seemed too severe. That’s the second time in less than five minutes that I’ve said the wrong thing. Maybe she just scares easily. It would explain how she seems extra nervous sometimes. I shake my head, lock up the rink for tonight, and head home. Winston is in his room, and I can't say I blame him. It looks like Neil is back in his pissed off mood. What the hell happened to set him off today?

EVERY SUNDAY, BO and I make the hour trip to have dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Lanier. We've been having this dinner since the summer before I started college, which was about four years ago. I didn't want to go alone, so I made Bo tag along, and he hasn't missed a dinner yet. But right about now, I wish I had left him at the house. And it's not because he bitched at me this morning for sleeping with a girl last night. Apparently, I should be celibate now.

When I walk into the house, Alice, their six year old daughter, rush up to me, jumping into my arms.

“Neil! I've missed you! I'm glad you came,” she squeals excitedly.

“I always come, Alice.” I pick her up and she hugs me tighter.

“Don't let go, Neil,” she warns like usual. “It's a long way down.”

I laugh. “I won't. Where are your parents?”

“Setting the table. Oh, hey, Bo,” she greets like she just now noticed him. Bo has always been a second thought for Alice. I'm her favorite visitor after all.

As we walk into the dining room, I ask her, “How's school? Are you in high school yet?”

Alice giggles. “No! I'm in the first grade, Neil.”

“Oh yeah, you just grow so much every week. I keep forgetting.” Mr. and Mrs. Lanier smile at me as we walk in. “Hey,” I greet, kissing Mrs. Lanier on the cheek and dipping my chin in a nod at Mr. Lanier.

After we start eating, things go south, thanks to Bo. Conversation was flowing smoothly like normal. Mrs. Lanier was asking about school and hockey and plans after college. It's nearly the exact same conversation every Sunday. She likes to keep tabs on me to make sure that I'm doing well. They both do, which is why I come. And because of Alice, too. Although, sometimes, it's hard to see her family's resemblance in her. Plus, the Lanier's are like second parents to me. In all honesty, I care more about what they think than I do my own parents. So I come each week, giving her answers that will make her happy, even if they aren't always true. Next, she asks the question I always dread.

“Have you met anyone?”

Just as I'm about to answer, Bo blurts out, “He's gotten a girl pregnant.”

God damn it! Slowly, I turn towards him in my seat. He better be so fucking happy that I don't have a knife in my hand because I'm sure I would stab him. Why the fuck would he say that to them? He has the nerve to simply shrug.

Alice gasps. “You're having a baby like my teacher? She's pregnant too. Mrs. Perry says she'll bring him to class for us to see one day.”

All the words that I could possibly say to these people, to this little girl, disappear. My vocabulary has been wiped clean, and my mouth is parted with no hopes of speaking.

“Oh, Neil,” Mrs. Lanier says.

God, I hate Bo so much. With a deep, controlled breath, I face her again. However, Bo opens his giant mouth, and I want to punch him so many times that he has to get it wired shut for it to heal.

“He told her to put it up for adoption.”

I drop my fork and put my fisted hands in my lap. This isn't for him to share, and it damn well isn't his place to tell them.

“What's adoption?” Alice asks.

“Sweetie, why don't you take your plate into the living room and watch cartoons?” Mr. Lanier suggests. Alice squeals with excitement and takes off as fast as she can while being cautious. He then turns his attention to me. “Neil, please tell me that you had a lengthy conversation with her before you two came to that decision.”

“Nope. She was a one night stand, and she came over to tell him. Then he told her to put it up for adoption. We haven't seen her since,” Bo happily answers.